


not sure where home is anymore

by granteares



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kent just misses his big soft boyf, M/M, Making Out, honestly this is just so Soft i'm crying, not really anything Hot & Heavy tho lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/granteares/pseuds/granteares
Summary: Swoops gets traded to a team on the other side of the country that Kent is pretty sure hates him. Kent is beyond grateful when he finally gets to head to Providence for the Aces bye-week and discovers maybe things aren't so different.





	not sure where home is anymore

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from an anon on tumblr from a few months ago (oops) that was: "swoops gets traded (possibly to the falcs?) so maybe just cute stuff him and kent do when they see each other..." If that was you and you're reading this, I truly hope you enjoy (and, again, am sincerely sorry for the major delay)!!!
> 
> Unbeta'd, feel free to point out any silly mistakes)))

When Jeff gets traded to the Falconers in the off-season, Kent truly isn’t sure for a good few weeks how he’s going to survive it.

It’s stupid, because he’s been through worse.

Like, a _lot_ worse.

And Jeff assures him that they’ll make it work, promises him.

But it almost feels like a rotten cherry on top of a shit cake, like a kick in the balls, another big old _fuck you_ from the universe, because the only person who’s ever made him feel like things could be _okay_ is leaving– and not just anywhere. If he’d been traded to literally any other team, Kent would have been able to cope, would have been able to believe Jeff’s promises. The Falcs, though, they’re _Jack’s_ team, and since he had signed with them two seasons ago, Kent has noticed a different kind of tension during their games. They know something, Kent doesn’t know how they _couldn’t_ , and they hate him for it.

And his boyfriend is going right into it, and Kent is convinced that there’s a slim chance Jeff won’t come out of it hating him, too.

If Jeff comes to hate him, Kent doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

He takes advantage of how they can still be together for a month, before Jeff decides he should go to Providence and find a place to live and settle into his brand-spanking-new life while Kent tries not to panic.

**_/ x \\_**

But Jeff’s promises are, actually, accurate. They’re halfway through the season on opposite sides of the country and they’re still together. They haven’t seen each other in months, but they talk on the phone– if not on Skype– every day, and every day, Jeff still says _‘I love you, Kenny’_ – and knowing Jeff was in close proximity to Jack, hearing that name had made him flinch the first few times– so Kent thinks Jeff was right. He thinks that, and hears Jeff’s voice inside his head, laughing and saying _‘I’m always right, baby.’_

When the Aces get to their bye-week halfway through the season, Kent practically invites himself over to Jeff’s new apartment in Providence. The Falcs’ bye-week isn’t for a few months yet, but they got lucky enough that the games the Falcs are playing that week are all at home. Jeff will be busy, but they’ll get his free time to be together and Kent is practically _buzzing_ with the excited energy he feels as he finally gets off the plane and is trying not to fucking _sprint_ to baggage claim where Jeff said he’d be waiting for him.

The problem with that, though, is that when Jeff spots him in the airport and closes the distance between them, they can’t kiss, don’t feel comfortable doing more than that stupid bro-hug, and Kent needs more than that, and he knows Jeff does, too. As quickly as possible, they gather Kent’s suitcase, and head to the short-term parking lot; they walk close enough that they can accidentally brush arms or fingers, and it sends a jolt through Kent every time, and it’s a good interim until they get to Jeff’s place.

They’re in the car, and Jeff’s hand is on Kent’s thigh as he uses the other on the steering wheel. “The guys tend to pop in, sometimes, just… so you know,” Jeff warns, sounding hesitant. And Kent knows why: because he tenses at the idea of Falconers waltzing into Jeff’s place and seeing him there. They know Jeff is pansexual, know he has a boyfriend, but Kent wasn’t willing to let Jeff tell them _who_ that boyfriend is. “You know they don’t hate you, right, babe?” Jeff squeezes his thigh, and Kent nods automatically. It isn’t the first time Jeff has told him that, or the fifth. Jeff has told him how there’s plenty of players on the Falconers who praise his skills and the ones who have had conversations with him say he’s a good guy– but he continues to avoid telling him anything about Jack, or Jack’s reaction toward anything Kent-related. “I really think they’d be more than okay about it, if I told them we’re together.” Because Jeff hates keeping secrets from his team– and it’s hard to think that his team isn’t Kent’s team anymore– and Kent does know that Jeff wants to tell them if Kent is ready to.

“Let’s– Can we not, right now?” Kent replies. “Not today?” He looks over at Jeff, who takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance back at Kent and give a little nod of assent. “I’m here for a week, we can talk about it later, I promise.”

“I’d rather just enjoy you today, too,” Jeff agrees, and Kent feels himself relax again. He takes his hand off Kent’s thigh for a moment to grab his phone from the center console, and hand it to Kent. “Chinese for dinner? My nutritionist will kill me, but I think you’re worth a cheat day,” Jeff explains. “There’s a great fucking place not far from the apartment, we can grab it on the way if you want to order it now.”

“Yeah,” Kent says, unlocking Jeff’s phone– because of course his passcode hasn’t changed, still 1490, the fucking sap– and finding the contact simply labeled ‘Chinese Food.’ Kent already knows their orders– except for when Jeff pokes him in the side and mutters _‘Get some crab rangoon, too, fucking divine here’_ – and goes through the process quickly enough.

When they get to the apartment, Jeff grabs Kent’s travel bags, because “You’ve got the important shit, bro, carry the food”– and proceeds to take it to where Kent is guessing the master bedroom is, while Kent is left to divvy out the Chinese food in the kitchen. He hasn’t seen Jeff’s place before, and that fact bites at him a little, but it feels comfortable the same way Jeff’s condo in Las Vegas had. It’s already decorated with most of the same things, although there’s a much more rustic feel– the building is obviously older, a converted house, the opposite of the sleek modernity to Vegas. It fits Jeff better, though, Kent thinks.

Kent forgets the food and his thoughts the second that he feels Jeff’s arms wrap around him, though, turning and allowing himself to be pinned against the edge of the counter.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Jeff murmurs.

Kent laughs. “Fucking dork. Just kiss me.”

Jeff rolls his eyes, but leans further into Kent’s space. The kiss they share is long and certainly verging on desperate, and if Kent ever doubted that Jeff truly did miss him, he told himself he never would again because of the way Jeff is holding onto him like he’s never going to let go again.

But eventually he does, and Kent is sucking in shaking breaths and he’s a little hard in his pants– and he can feel Jeff is too– but mostly he’s hungry and longing for the casual nights he hasn’t gotten in so long, where they would sit on the couch just being together: no pressures, no expectations, no overthinking. Those kind of stupid domestic nights Kent hadn’t even known he’d wanted and that had taken months of dating Jeff to achieve.

“C’mon, I’m fucking hungry,” Kent grumbles, prodding Jeff’s chest even as he’s stepping away and grabbing plates from a cabinet and utensils from a drawer.

They divvy out the food onto plates, then head back to the living room and settle on the couch. “All yours,” Jeff offers, pushing the remote to Kent on the coffee table to let Kent pick, like he always does, and Kent feels his chest tighten for a moment because even though everything is different on the surface, everything is ultimately the same, and the relief he feels is so immense he struggles not to show it in front of Jeff– who would certainly ask what was up, and then Kent would have to talk about his _feelings_. Which wasn’t bad, with Jeff, but the last thing he wanted to do tonight.

Kent spends some time going through Netflix, but ultimately settles onto something silly they’ve watched a dozen times before so that they can concentrate more on each other than a plotline of something on the television.

They eat in silence for a while, and it’s fine with Kent, because it’s the soft and comfortable silence that is one of Kent’s favorite things about being with Jeff. Kent gets his fill, puts his plate down on the coffee table, and then gets himself comfy by turning himself sideways on the couch and throwing his legs in Jeff’s lap after the man raises his plate up.

When Jeff finally puts his plate aside, Kent doesn’t even hesitate a second before crawling into Jeff’s lap and settling there. Jeff, almost like it’s instinctual, wraps his arms around him, one hand positioned so he can play with the hair against Kent’s neck, a little longer than usual because it’s that point in the season where he can’t be bothered to keep up with haircuts and shaving regularly. Kent nuzzles his face into Jeff’s neck, pressing kisses and soft nips to the skin. “You smell so good, shit,” Kent murmurs into skin, “I’ve missed you so much, Swoops.”

“Missed you, Parser,” Jeff answers back, shifting to draw Kent’s head away from his neck and meeting his lips instead.

Kent is happy to make-out lazily and slowly for a while, until Jeff complains his leg is falling asleep and they reposition themselves.

The couch in Jeff’s living room was brought from Las Vegas, and it’s comfortable and worn and just wide enough that Jeff can spoon him but they have to press close together– which is always perfectly fine by Kent. They lay like that for a while, watching more stupid movies, until Jeff is prodding at him, and saying: “Parse, wake up, if you’re gonna fall asleep we might as well go lay in bed.”

“M’not sleepin’,” Kent protests.

Jeff laughs quietly, Kent feels the rumble in his chest and the breath huff on his neck. “Sure, Kent, okay.” He pushes at Kent, gently, but enough that he rolls a bit closer to the edge of the couch. “Up you get. Bed’s comfier, anyway. You’ll bitch all day tomorrow about your neck if you sleep here.”

Kent sighs, because Jeff is _always_ right, goddamn it. He pulls himself out of Jeff’s arms reluctantly, even though he knows he’ll be back in them shortly, and gets to his feet. He follows Jeff down the hallway to the master bedroom, which also has a large bathroom attached. Kent rushes through his bedtime rituals, looking forward to how great he knows Jeff’s bed is.

In just boxer shorts now, he crawls into the side he always slept on when the bed was in Jeff’s Vegas condo, and Jeff gets in on the other side. It’s only a short moment later that they’re tangled together in the middle of the bed, and Kent sighs contentedly, not having quite realized how off-kilter he truly felt without Jeff’s physical presence with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic?! Two in the same day?! What!!! I was on a damn roll today youse guys, mein Gott...
> 
> If you also follow my Patater content, I promise I'm still working on that fake-dating fic, I just needed these prompts for some muse jump-starting!
> 
> As usual, you can reach me [@kentvparsin](http://kentvparsin.tumblr.com) to chat, drop prompts in my inbox, or find a link if you're able to provide some other support if you like what I do!


End file.
